Pen Pals
by Racey
Summary: Two men on opposite sides of the world meet in an unlikely manner. AU, yaoi, swearing.
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER 1**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach...

Onwards...

XOXOXO

**Denville, Tennessee**

**USA**

"This is why you have no friends!" his baby sister yelled at him, hands on slender hips and wrinkles creasing the bridge of her straight nose. "You only leave the house to go into town for supplies, you never take the time to socialize, and when you _are_ forced into the general population, it's like pulling teeth! I don't get you, Grimm!"

"If he don't wanna go ta the fair, then he don't gotta go," his older brother drawled from the wicker chair beside him, toothpick moving restlessly at the corner of his mouth.

"Look," Grimmjow spoke up, sitting forward in his own wicker seat. "Yer my lil sister, but even _you_ can't get me within two feet a'that disaster of a fair."

"Why the heck are you so against the fair all of a sudden? We always used to go as kids, and you'd always win a huge stuffed whatever for me in the water gun game! Then, Kenny would give me cotton candy and win me an inflatable hammer at the test your strength game. Why can't we-"

"Lo-ly," he enunciated, stopping her before she _really_ got going. "Things've changed since ya gone off ta New York."

Loly pouted, arms going over her breasts. Even though she was twenty-three now, she still only managed to reach the middle of his chest. Their older brother, Kenpachi Zaraki, better known as Kenny, overwhelmed his seat with his height and mass as he settled back into it, and gave a low chuckle that sounded more like a rumbling growl. It was hard to tell with the older man sometimes.

"Yeah, like Grimmy here gettin' hounded by ninety-eight percent a'the female species here in good ole *Denville."

Loly's eyes widened as her dark gaze swung from Kenny and back in Grimmjow's direction. "You're a ladies man now, Grimmy?"

"Not really," he mumbled, looking away from his sister's piercing eyes and out across the family's sprawling backyard as he absently scratched the tip of his nose. "Actually...not at all."

Another chortle from big brother, Kenny. "Ya gon' tell 'er why?"

"Hadn' really planned on it," Grimmjow answered, stern stare pointed at his dark-haired brother.

Their sister squeaked like a chew toy. "I don't know whether to feel mad or hurt that you're keeping secrets from me! I'm not a kid anymore, you know!"

He sucked his teeth and rolled cornflower-blue eyes away from Kenny and onto Loly. "Stop bein' so dramatic. Ya been gone fer 'bout two years since the last time ya visited. Can't really get all fussy 'cuz it slipped my mind."

"More like-" Kenny started, but Grimmjow hushed him with a slicing glare. "OK, OK. I'll be quiet."

"Well-" Loly opened her mouth.

"For now," Kenny finished with a shark-like grin, slate-gray eyes twinkling with mischief.

Grimmjow could kill his brother for putting him on the spot like that. He'd planned to tell Loly when she got home from New York – which was now – but just hadn't gotten around to it yet. Hell, he'd only just figured out why the homecoming queen had never really done it for him, and why most women's advances fell on deaf ears. With a sigh, he rubbed the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes.

"Loly, I ain't attracted ta women."

Well, the silence that followed that statement was pretty resounding, if he did say so himself. Kenny sat with a huge smirk while Loly could only stand and stare, mouth open and dark eyes imitating saucers. She worked her lips open and closed a few times, hands dropping to her sides before she finally settled on a comment.

"Are you telling me you're not attracted to women because you're attracted...to _men?_" she ended with a dramatic stage whisper.

"Yep, tha's 'bout right."

Kenny cracked up, the toothpick in the corner of his mouth tumbling to his lap. Grimmjow frowned over at the taller man. It wasn't _that_ funny. However, Loly's reaction was a bit more disturbing.

She gave a loud gasp and covered her mouth with both hands, eyes lighting up like a lamp. "Oh my _God_, Grimmy!" she squealed. "I've like, _always_ wanted a gay guy friend, and here I actually have a gay _brother!_ That is _so_ awesome, you have no idea!"

While Kenny's laughter merely escalated, Grimmjow grew alarmed.

"Don' think we're gonna paint each other's toenails over margaritas an' shit like that," he threatened, one eyebrow damned near in his hair.

"Tch! You're so boring, Grimmy!"

"Stop callin' me that," he grumbled, glowering at Kenny, who was _still fucking laughing_. "It ain't that damned funny, ya know."

"Ohhh, but I beg ta differ, lil brother. Loly's gonna have ya modelin' ass-less chaps 'fore she leaves."

"Ewww!" Loly shrieked through a bunch of giggling. "That's just gross, Kenny!"

"Hey!" Grimmjow snapped. "Ain't nothin' wrong wit' my ass. I jus' ain't lettin' our lil sister see it."

By now, Kenny was wiping tears from his eyes as he doubled over in his chair. Grimmjow just scowled and stared at the large, inflatable pool a few feet from the back porch. An exotic-looking, brown-skinned and violet-haired woman with golden, cat-like eyes splashed around in the turquoise monstrosity. A little dark-haired girl with huge, so dark they were almost blue, puppy-dog eyes splashed and played with her, girlish giggles punctuating the lulls in conversation.

"Ururu's gonna turn into a prune soon," Loly admonished.

"She's fine," Kenny said lazily as he smiled with pride at his wife and daughter. "'Sides, we're gonna eat inna minute."

Speaking of which: Grimmjow climbed to his feet and stalked off the porch towards the grill, booted feet thudding deeply along the wooden planks. Once he reached the long, charcoal grill, he flipped the lid and waved away the aromatic smoke. Then, he took a set of metal tongs and turned six steaks and two racks of ribs. The hamburgers, hot dogs, corn on the cob, and grilled red potatoes were already done. Along with that, there was a table in the kitchen laden with dishes filled with a garden salad, potato salad, baked beans and greens. The food would last forever because Kenny and his wife insisted on going overboard for their little sister's return, and had purchased way too much. It didn't matter. At least they wouldn't have to cook for a while.

After the meat was situated to his liking, he closed the lid and sauntered back onto the porch. Instead of going to his seat, though, he made his way to the other end to the big, red cooler. There he bent and grabbed a couple of beers and a wine spritzer. On the trip to his seat, he handed off a beer and the spritzer to Kenny and Loly respectively before plopping down onto the comfortable, paisley print cushion of the wicker chair.

"Grimm, I'm sure there's guys at the fair that you can browse through," Loly commented nonchalantly.

Kenny snorted into his beer after getting rid of the cap and taking a long swig. Grimmjow did the same, but almost choked on the liquid as his little sister's statement sunk in.

"Ya gotta be kiddin' me, right, Loly?"

"What?" she chirped innocently.

"_What_, she says. Loly, this ain't New York. I can't jus' walk aroun', pointin' an' pickin' who I wanna take home. Maybe if I liked girls, I could get away wit' that. But..." he trailed off, frustrated.

It was a sore topic that had made itself known time and time again. Whenever he went into town for supplies for the house, or just grocery shopping, he sometimes saw guys who were rather attractive. It even seemed like a few of them had been thinking the same about him. But he'd never dragged up the courage to approach one. He was scared to death of ruining his brother's reputation as Sheriff of their small town. _His_ job was keeping house and freelance landscaping. _His_ reputation didn't mean shit, but...he wouldn't jeopardize Kenny's. So, it kept him from being able to explore his sexuality the way he really wanted to.

Of course, he'd had the occasional, out-of-town romp with a few of the bolder men he'd shared a mutual interest in, but as far as a relationship? He'd never had one. And the way things were going, he didn't think he'd _ever_ have one. It was depressing at times, but he would never let his family see him sulk.

He smirked as he lifted his beer bottle for another sip. "I gotta be a bit more discreet than that, Loly."

Loly quirked her lips, dark eyes narrowed on his face. He gulped down a few swallows and shifted his gaze to Kenny. Didn't seem like he'd been as convincing as he'd hoped. His older brother watched him with intense gray eyes that seemed to see right into his soul.

Aw, hell.

"Well, don't worry, Grimm. Little sister's here to help you find a man!" Loly shouted, pumping her dainty fist over her head.

He grimaced and shook his head at the way Yoruichi and Ururu paused, the former wearing a small, knowing grin and the latter wearing a perplexed expression. If it hadn't been involving his sexual orientation, he might've found the situation comical; instead, he sighed and went back to his beer, unable to shake the feeling of Kenny's eyes all over him.

XOXOXO

**Two Weeks Later**

**Karakura, Japan**

"Good morning, Kurosaki-kun!"

"Mornin', Inoue," he rumbled, disgruntled.

"Ah, is something wrong, Kurosaki-kun? You look unwell."

Ichigo turned away from the large, stainless steel refrigerator, focused on the apricot-haired woman, and shook his head. "I'm fine. How's your morning goin'?"

Inoue immediately launched into a detailed explanation that would last more than ten minutes, for sure. Ichigo had experienced it before, and frankly, looked forward to it this morning. He needed something to help take his mind off the horrible weekend he'd had.

It started with a disagreement with his old man on Friday evening. Isshin Kurosaki hadn't been too thrilled to hear that his only son planned to pursue his field in America. Hell, the older man wasn't even thrilled about that field to begin with. In the eyes of his father, being a chef didn't really make for a stable living. Oh, well. That was just too bad. The old goat would have to suck it up and get used to it. Ichigo's heart lay with cooking and creating art in the form of food, not medicine; he'd long outgrown the idea of becoming a surgeon like his father.

Saturday had seen his "friend" accusing him of treachery in the form of a stolen girlfriend. Ichigo inwardly scoffed and rolled his eyes. He didn't even like girls, so what the hell would he steal his "friend's" for? Not to mention, he already had someone he'd been seeing. It was just another example of how blind and stupid people could be. After a knock-down, drag-out fight with the pale-haired guy, they'd split ways, vowing never to see or speak to each other again. Which normally meant about a week.

But Sunday had been the icing on the already lop-sided cake. His boyfriend – and he used the term very loosely – had broken up with him. They'd been together – again, loosely – for about four months, when suddenly, the blond felt like he wanted to explore other options. Not that he'd had the decency to tell Ichigo this ahead of time; Ichigo had been forced to walk in on his supposed other half instructing some frail-looking dark-haired boy on all the wonders of the Kama Sutra. A ton of vodka and a sleepless night had the orange-haired man walking into work looking like death on a silver platter. _Of course_, he looked unwell.

He shuffled over to one of the prep counters and set out a few ingredients for the salmon-inspired chowder he had in mind for the main dish of the evening. Inoue was still rambling, her voice a soothing background hum. That was...until she required him to participate.

With a soft giggle, she said, "Kurosaki-kun, you're not even listening."

He jerked at the sound of his name and stared at her, still in la-la land. "Huh?"

Inoue faked a long-suffering sigh as she turned to the ingredients he'd lain out. She was a bit creepily cheerful, but she was a sharp sous-chef. Her passion for cooking almost rivaled his own and he admired that. Although, sometimes her ideas and suggestions for menu items ran wild. Without his line cook, Renji, the days Ichigo hadn't been at the restaurant would've been disastrous.

"I'm sorry, Inoue. My mind was somewhere else."

"Is it Shinji-kun?" she asked innocently enough, but the jolt of pain was nearly breathtaking.

"Uh...um...," he faltered.

Was he ready to share that kind of news? Did he want the most optimistic being on the face of this planet knowing how negative a mood he was in? Ichigo sent Inoue a tentative glance and sighed at the concern shining in her steel-gray eyes. Dammit.

"Yeah, among other things, I guess," he mumbled and leaned a hip against the steel surface of the prep counter. "Remember I told you I wanna go to America to open up a restaurant and everything? Maybe a couple years if I'm lucky?" Inoue nodded. "Well, I told my old man about those plans and he flipped out. Says I'm a million years too young to strike out on my own, especially in America."

"Oh, Kurosaki-kun..."

"Yeah. Add to that a fight with Shiro and my break-up with Shinji, and you've got my weekend."

"Wow. Th-that's horrible."

"Eh, I guess it could've been worse," he replied nonchalantly.

The swinging kitchen doors suddenly swished apart, revealing the red-haired line cook, Renji Abarai. The taller man wore his white uniform impeccably and looked damned good in it. But that was neither here nor there. Renji swaggered into the room, hooded, russet eyes alight with mischief as they landed on Ichigo.

"Yo, Taichou! How's it goin'?"

Ichigo sucked his teeth through an exasperated grin. "You can stop calling me that now, you know."

"No way," the red head's deep voice rumbled into the partially empty kitchen. "Yer the captain a'this ship, amigo."

"Abarai-kun, you watch too much TV," Inoue chimed in with a laugh.

Renji sucked his teeth and rolled his eyes dramatically. "Woman, this ain't a fuckin' _classroom_. Stop tackin' that 'kun' at the end a'my name."

The apricot-haired girl blushed from the roots of her hair to the tips of her ears. It was pretty funny, but Ichigo felt the need to reprimand his brash line cook.

"Stop embarrassing Inoue, Renji."

"Heh," the red head grinned fiendishly. "Ain't no fun if I don't."

The three got down to business after that, the sounds of clinking metal, sizzling pans and running water filling the background. Time flew by and before Ichigo knew it, he was pausing for his break.

He glanced around the animated kitchen and blew out a deep, satisfied breath. He'd gotten many compliments on the salmon chowder, so he filed it away with the other prime items on his mental menu.

"Inoue," he called after undoing the tie of his white apron. "I'm takin' fifteen."

The cheery girl lifted her head from a saucepan where she was creating a red wine glaze for a sauteed beef dish. "Sure thing, Kurosaki-kun!"

Ichigo went towards the back exit of the kitchen and hung his apron on a hook before pushing the heavy metal door open and stepping into the mellow, evening air. It felt marvelous on his slightly perspiring face. He leaned against the ashen stone wall of the restaurant and smiled. He was well on his way to achieving his goal, his _dream_. He had a bunch of money saved for the restaurant he wanted to start and he was almost finished with the business courses he'd picked up two years ago. Since he'd discovered his passion for cooking and food, and once he'd tuned into the website for the American television station, Food Network, he'd yearned to make his way to the exciting states and experience that world for himself. His old man was completely against it, but Ichigo wouldn't let that deter him. Medicine just wasn't on the agenda.

His cell phone abruptly buzzed in his pocket, making him jump. He didn't have many people he could label friend. Shiro wasn't about to call him so soon after their last argument, and he and Shinji were through, so he wondered who could be trying to contact him. He pulled the sleek, silver device from his black uniform pants and glanced at the glowing screen. Ah, new email. Then, his heart rate spiked when he remembered the new acquaintance he'd made through a pen pal website. He forgot the name of it, but he'd run across it while absently surfing the web. With nothing better to do, he'd signed up, kind of thrilled about the idea of talking with someone from the US. Those were the requirements he'd entered into his profile: US native and male.

Ichigo felt his ears go warm as he opened the email application and read the strange name in his inbox. Grimmjow Jaegerjaques. They'd been exchanging messages for a little over two weeks now and he could honestly say, he found the guy interesting. Grimmjow was twenty-seven years old, funny, he seemed nice – although very blunt – he did landscaping for a living, and he had two other siblings. He'd also mentioned that they'd all been adopted and raised together by a nice, older couple until that couple had passed, leaving them all a house in Denville, Tennessee. Grimmjow had a niece that he pretty much adored, if the way he described her was any indication. He seemed close to his brother and sister too. Ichigo liked that. He felt family was extremely important and it sucked that he wasn't as close as he used to be with his own.

Grinning, he opened the message and read:

_Hey, Ichigo,_

_How's your day going? It's about nine AM over here, so it should be evening by you, right? I have a yard to take care of in an hour, so I figured I'd shoot you a message before I left for the day. Just had breakfast and coffee with Kenny and Loly. Sort of a spontaneous kind of thing, I guess. Ruru was still asleep and Yoruichi was in the backyard cleaning the kiddie pool. You know how to swim, Ichigo? I was thinking of having a real pool put out there. _

_But anyway, Loly's still trying to get me to that fair I told you about the other day. I really don't wanna go, though. Women freak me out when they're in large, demanding numbers, ya know? I don't know. I DO know I'm not going. Loly can whine and plead all she wants. Do they have fairs or anything in Karakura? Or I guess you'd call them festivals, right? I'm just learning about Japanese culture, so don't mind if I don't get it all correct right away. _

_Enough about me, though. How are things on your side of the world? Any new food suggestions? I tried the onigiri recipe you sent me last week and it was pretty good. Kenny demolished them, LoL. If he didn't have me and his wife here to cook for him, he'd be useless. Yeah, but, um...what was I gonna write? Oh yeah! The restaurant! Did you have any luck finding a place over here yet? I don't wanna sound like a creep or anything, but it'd be nice to actually meet you, ya know? Loly says I need to make more friends and get out more often, but I like to take my time with these things. People can be assholes. _

_By the way, I'm glad you can understand English. It makes things a lot easier. Not that I wouldn't try that translation thing I heard about, but...well, anyway. I gotta get ready to go now. Talk to you soon, Ichigo._

_Grimmjow_

Ichigo smiled, entire face hot by now. It wasn't as if Grimmjow'd expressed any sexual interest in him, but the fact that the guy wanted to meet him sent warm shudders through his body. He really liked receiving messages from the man. They hadn't even approached the topic of exchanging pictures and hell, Ichigo was kind of nervous. What if Grimmjow was unattractive? What if Grimmjow _wasn't_ unattractive and thought Ichigo _was_? There was so much that could fuck up what seemed like a blossoming friendship, and he really didn't want that. Besides, as things stood, he and Grimmjow were only pen pals, friends. Nothing more, nothing less. He was jumping the gun with all this sudden schoolgirl giddiness. Ichigo lowered himself onto a crate outside the restaurant and hit the reply option. Another smile slowly crept across his face as he began entering his response.

_Didn't hurt to dream, though._

***Denville—I seriously don't know if this place really exists, but I made it up for the sake of this story. You know, sorta like how Gotham and Metropolis are made up, but still manage to be in America? Yeah, just like that.**

**This is only going to be around maybe ten chapters. Nothing too big. I've had this idea running around in my head for over a year I think, and I'm tired of sitting on it. Hope you liked the first chapter! Thanks for reading~**

**Next time...**


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach...

Onwards...

XOXOXO

If he hadn't been so used to the blazing sun and driving heat by now, he was sure he'd be one miserable soul. However, he was lucky to have an immunity to the Southern weather, making it possible to work the Mayor's sprawling front lawn without feeling the need to pass out. Already on his knees before a rebellious bush, Grimmjow sat back on his heels, dropped his hedge shears, took off his green, yellow and beige John Deere hat with one hand, and swiped the back of the other across his damp forehead. Then, he blew out a breath as he looked over the lawn. He'd made a lot of progress since the morning, and here it was going on four in the afternoon.

The other surrounding bushes were neatly trimmed, providing a fine work of art for the cement walkway leading up to the wrap-around porch of the house. The Mayor, an older man by the name of Barragan Luisenbarn, didn't ask for much. In fact, he'd only requested the few bushes hiding behind the low stone wall of the property be touched up because he had family visiting from up North, and he didn't want the place looking shabby. Grimmjow laughed. Not that Barragan _ever_ had to worry about the huge ranch looking anything even _remotely_ close to shabby. The house covered roughly the same amount of land two football fields would take up. It was amazing and all kinds of beautiful, and Grimmjow was rather proud to be the man in charge of its landscape.

The sound of an engine and tires crunching over a dirt road grabbed the blue-haired man's attention and had him looking towards the street, just past the stone wall of the Mayor's property. The black and white sheriff's cruiser made him smile as it slowed to a stop. The driver's door was thrown open, and Kenny's large frame emerged from the vehicle. The hulking dark-haired man was grinning from ear to ear, black shades hiding his eyes.

"Yo, lil bro'!" he shouted, far too loudly.

Grimmjow smirked as he climbed to his feet and replaced his hat, this time the bill facing backwards. He started down the stone walkway towards his older brother, wondering what the man could possibly want.

"What're you doin' here?" Grimmjow drawled, eyebrow raised skeptically.

"Ya make me bein' here sound like a crime! I can't stop an' check on my lil brother every now an' then?"

Kenny came around the hood of the cruiser and leaned against the passenger door. The shades were taken off and Grimmjow was able to see the barely contained mischief shining in the man's slate-gray irises.

"I ain't sayin' ya can't, but it ain't like ya make it a habit. Yer usually busy 'round this time," Grimmjow stated, eyeing the taller man.

Kenny shrugged. "Ya wanna get a beer from that place over on Hempton?"

Grimmjow pivoted on his heel and looked the yard over again. He could call it a day. The mayor had only asked for the area behind the stone partition to be done, after all; Grimmjow had only thrown in the rest of the lawn as a bonus since Mayor Barragan was such a loyal customer.

He turned back to Kenny and said, "Yeah, we can do that. Lemme grab my stuff."

Grimmjow ambled over to the bush he'd previously been giving his attention and grabbed his hedge shears. Then, he strolled to the other side of the yard where the rest of his tools were stashed. Once he had everything he'd arrived with, he made his way to his truck parked in the gravel driveway. He didn't have to worry about billing the mayor since the older man was pretty diligent with making his payments – not to mention generous on top of it all. Grimmjow stored his equipment in the bed of his pickup before sauntering to the driver's side and sliding inside the humid vehicle. He fiddled with the radio, until Kenny's horn blared from the street, sending the clear message of "hurry the fuck up." Grinning, the blue-haired man backed down the driveway. His older brother was a pain in the ass sometimes, but he still loved him.

They drove for about ten minutes before they reached the bar Kenny had mentioned. It was a laid back establishment with an Old West feel to it. The outside was a plain, dark wood and boasted a dusty, wrap-around porch. The entrance was a couple of large, sturdy, wooden doors that creaked loudly whenever opened, but the charm of the place was undeniable. Even the interior was interesting with its neon signs and private dance floor, where the patrons had their choice of all kinds of country music to choose from the silver and red jukebox in the corner of the raised platform. Grimmjow wasn't really a dancer, but he liked to watch. Especially when the dancers got good and drunk and hardly remembered there was a beat they were supposed to be following. That was pretty fun.

Grimmjow parked in the rear lot and hopped out of his truck. He met Kenny at the man's sheriff cruiser, and they both trooped to the front entrance. Grimmjow ignored the kissing couple they'd passed at the back of the building and refused to admit that he was a tiny bit jealous. But just because he wouldn't openly acknowledge it, it didn't mean his brother didn't pick up on it.

"You've been actin' weird for a while now, lil bro'. Wanna talk about it?"

Grimmjow shook his head and adjusted his cap. He really didn't want to tell his only brother that he was envious of the couples traipsing through the town, holding hands, kissing, sharing intimate moments and dinners and whatnot. He didn't want to tell Kenny that the reason he felt he couldn't have the same was because he was trying to protect the man's reputation. How could he? Kenny would curse the town and tell Grimmjow to do what he wanted, even if it meant the destruction of his own career – which it surely would. The townsfolk weren't very open-minded when it came to homosexuality, even though the times were progressing and suggesting that maybe they should be. Grimmjow just didn't want to risk it.

"I'm just thinkin' 'bout some things," he grunted.

Kenny gave him a sideways look that spoke volumes of how he really felt about Grimmjow's statement, but luckily, the man kept silent. They headed into the crowded bar and found a table near the back. As they passed through, several men and women addressed Kenny with warm affection. Grimmjow's chest inflated with pride. His brother was a damned good sheriff and didn't deserve to lose his standing because of Grimmjow's sexual preference. That was in no way fair at all.

At the table, Grimmjow ordered a beer and sat back, ready to wait for its arrival. Kenny had other plans, however.

"Why dontcha got a boyfriend, Grimm?" he asked.

Grimmjow's face paled as he stared across the small table at his brother. What the hell? Where had that question even come from? How was he supposed to answer it?

Well, he could lie, but Kenny would see through it like wet toilet paper. Yet, if he told the truth, it would probably make the dark-haired man feel bad. Damn, what a dilemma. Grimmjow rubbed the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted to tell Kenny why he was conservative about having a relationship with another man. He wanted to so badly. Hell, Kenny was his brother and the only person he _could_ dump his personal shit on. This, however... Whole 'nother bag of chips. He averted his gaze from Kenny's drilling gray one and stared down at the chipped wooden table between them.

Kenny gave a long-suffering sigh. "Ya think I don' know when somethin's wrong wit' you 'er Loly? I changed yer diapers fer Christ's sake."

True. But there were certain things that wouldn't go over easily no matter how close you were to someone. This just happened to be one of those things. Grimmjow did his own sighing as he toyed with the salt shaker. Although he really didn't want to tell Kenny what was on his mind, he didn't want to lie to him either. Grimmjow lifted his head and locked eyes with his brother.

"Ken, ya know how this town feels 'bout...uh...my sexuality and whatnot."

"Since when ya care what other people think 'boutcha?"

Grimmjow rubbed the tip of his nose and looked away again. He _didn't_ care what other people thought about _him_. It was Kenny he was worried about.

"You know I don' give a shit 'bout that."

Kenny frowned as he sipped the beer the barmaid had just set before them. After he took a quick swig, he set the heavy mug back on the table and gave Grimmjow his cop face.

"So yer hidin' shit now? S'at whatcha sayin'?"

"Fuck, Kenny. Don't say it like that."

"Well, you are, ain't ya?"

Grimmjow grimaced. This was what he'd been dreading. Why couldn't Kenny just let up and give him a break for a change? The man was like a dog with a bone when he got his claws into something. Finally, Grimmjow just thought "fuck it" and threw caution away.

"Kenny, if these people find out I'm gay, whatcha think they'll do ta you?" he snapped.

Kenny sat back in his chair and folded thick arms across his barrel-like chest. "They ain't gonna do shit ta me. I suddenly look like a pussy ta you?"

His brother was being defensive, but this was bigger than that. Grimmjow knew there wasn't a soul in Denville that could challenge Kenny and come out of the encounter alive – hence the reason the man was Sheriff in the first place. However, it didn't mean Kenny couldn't lose the job he loved so much.

"Now, I never said that an' you know it," Grimmjow argued. "But what if they take yer job 'er somethin'? How ya think that'll make me feel?"

Kenny didn't say anything for a few beats. He just sat and stared Grimmjow down like the blue-haired man had stepped on his brand new pair of shoes. Then, Kenny leaned forward, arms slowly unfolding and bracing along the edge of the table as he scowled deeply.

"So, how d'ya think _I_ feel knowin' my lil brother won't find happiness 'cuz a'me?"

Grimmjow swallowed, feeling like an absolute heel. The look in Kenny's eyes was like a lance through the head _and_ heart. A double homicide. He felt horrible. He'd never meant to put that glare in his brother's eyes, but the man _had_ asked.

"Kenny-" Grimmjow started.

"Lemme tell ya somethin', Grimmjow," Kenny cut him off. Grimmjow winced at the usage of his full first name; Kenny only used it when he was _pissed_. "If ya think I'd put these people over you – _my only lil brother _– then you've got me _sadly_ mistaken. You were there _before_ this town, _before_ this job, an' it's gonna _stay_ that way. This town don't like that yer sleepin' with men, then tha's _their_ fuckin' problem. I can't believe you'd doubt me like that."

Kenny climbed to his feet, dug around in the back pocket of his uniform for his wallet and dropped a few bills on the table. That done, the taller man left the bar without another word or look back. Grimmjow glared at the money on the table, not angry at the fact that his brother had paid and left, but pissed with himself for not trusting Kenny more. He should have known the older man wouldn't let the town treat him any way they wanted, let alone take his job from him. And not only that, but Kenny had made it more than clear that even if it _did_ come down to that, he would choose Grimmjow's side every time. It was painful as hell knowing he'd let his brother down. What was he supposed to say to the man now?

Grimmjow didn't even finish his beer. He stood and trudged through the bar towards the entrance, hands in his pockets and eyes on the dusty, wooden floor. He was almost to the other side of the room and his freedom, when a hand on his chest stopped him in his tracks. He lifted his head a bit and met a pair of honey-gold eyes. When he took a closer look, he realized the eyes belonged to a girl he'd seen around town before. She had maroon hair that she always wore in two ponytails on either side of her head, and she was pretty short. Didn't say anything about her personality, however. The girl was a spitfire, if Grimmjow'd ever seen one. Actually, she reminded him a lot of his sister, Loly. He was sure the girls would get on famously if they ever met.

"Hey, Riruka," he greeted.

She smiled like she'd just won the million dollar lottery. "Grimmjow, how come you never got a girl? Why ya so mysterious?"

He chuckled and carefully removed her hand that was now wandering down the valley between his pectorals. "I'm jus' a mysterious kinda guy."

"Awww! We should meet up sometime. Have a drink or two, ya know?"

Now, how could he let her down easily? She'd drawn a crowd of curious gazes, and he really didn't want to hurt her feelings. He didn't want to embarrass her, either. Riruka wasn't so bad, but she wasn't his type, even if he had been interested in females. Grimmjow scratched the back of his neck and pressed his lips together.

Luckily, Riruka chose to press forward with her proposal. "How 'bout this Saturday?"

Grimmjow didn't have anything planned, but damned if he'd tell _her_ that. "I'm sorry, Riruka. I got some other business ta tend to. Maybe some other time."

She pouted, but didn't throw a tantrum or call him any derogatory names. "Well, alright. I'll get that date with you someday," she said with a coy smile.

Grimmjow smirked and nodded his head. If only she knew. He left the bar and headed for his truck after Riruka retreated to the dance floor. He had a bottle of whiskey with his name written all over it, hidden in his room beneath the floorboard of his closet. He had to hide his alcohol from Loly because God knew the girl could put it away like no one else he knew. For someone so tiny, his little sister could drink him _and_ Kenny under the table.

**XxxxxX**

When Grimmjow got home, Kenny's cruiser was already parked in the drive. Apprehension tore his gut to shreds as he hopped out of his truck and made his way onto the front porch. The light in the living room was on, and he could smell food. As inviting as the atmosphere seemed, Grimmjow really didn't want to go in. So, like a coward, he crept inside and hurried to the stairs that would take him to his bedroom. He wasn't ready to face Kenny yet; he just didn't know what he would say. He didn't want to see his brother glaring at him again. Didn't want to see the disappointment and hurt in those gray eyes.

He made it to his room without incident, only to find Loly inside, draped across his bed. She had a bright green lollipop in one hand and was using the other to work the cursor pad on his laptop. Dismayed, he closed the door and leaned against it.

"What the hell, Loly?"

The dark-haired girl gave him a quick glance before turning her attention back to the computer screen. "I figured you might come crawling in here after I saw the look on Kenny's face. What'd you do?"

"Hey!" Grimmjow countered, a bit peeved that she'd seen right through him. "How ya know it was me that made him mad?"

"'Cuz he said he didn't want to see your 'stinkin' face fer at least a day'," she returned, accurately nailing their older brother's voice without even making a visible effort.

Grimmjow cringed and stared down at the floor. He _really_ felt like shit now. Kenny had to be truly pissed at someone to not want to speak to them at all for more than a couple of hours. If Grimmjow had still been a kid, he'd be crying right about now. He hated having his siblings upset with him. Loly eased her head in his direction, a small frown pulling at her eyebrows.

"So, what'd you do, Grimmy?"

Grimmjow took a deep breath and shook his head. "I didn't tell 'im somethin' I shoulda."

"Liiiiike?"

"Tch! Can't I sulk without you pokin' yer nose in it?"

"Of course not!" she exclaimed, expression genuinely appalled. "So spill!"

"Goddammit, Loly! I tol' 'im I didn't wanna date anybody 'cuz I didn't want him ta lose his job! Ya happy now?" Grimmjow snarled.

Loly rolled her eyes and turned back to the computer. "Boys," she drawled. "You're so _dramatic_. You and Kenny are being ridiculous, fighting over something so stupid. Just go kiss and make up already."

"What? Don't be stupid. Kenny'd rip my head off right now."

"Hmm. You might be right."

Grimmjow snorted. Then he realized that his sister was using his laptop, and right when he went to scold her for it, she spoke up.

"Hey, Grimmy? Who's Ichigo Kuro-somethin'?"

The blood drained from his face as he crossed the room in three long strides. He reached the bed and grabbed his laptop by the screen before lifting it away from her.

"What the fuck, Loly! Ya readin' my email now?"

She sat up on his bed and folded her legs Indian style. Her face was as devious as it could get. "I didn't do it on purpose, you know! It sorta just popped up while I was checking my own messages."

"Liar," he growled.

He couldn't believe she'd invaded his privacy like that. What the hell had she been thinking? Evil little girl. Woman. Female.

His words didn't even faze the brat because she gave Grimmjow an impish grin. "So, who is he?"

"Nunna yer business!"

"Ohh? And here I thought I had to play matchmaker. Guess you've got it covered, huh, Grimmy?"

"Get out."

"Aww, Grimmy, don't be that way!"

"GET OUT!" he roared and pointed at the door.

Loly giggled and slid off his bed. She ambled over to the door still grinning up a storm, and when she reached it, she turned back and blew him a kiss.

"Good luck!"

Before he could retort, she was out of the room, the heavy wooden portal shutting behind her. Grimmjow huffed a breath, rolled his eyes, then plopped down onto his bed. His heart immediately began racing as he set the laptop down and turned it towards him. So, he had a message from Ichigo, huh? An unexplainable giddiness settled over him and made his fingers fly over the keyboard as he entered his email account information.

He remembered being bored one night after work and Googling pen pal websites. Don't ask him why because he really didn't know. But he'd ended finding an interesting site that didn't seem like it was filled with creeps. In fact, it was a melting pot of different cultures. He'd created a profile and a couple days after, he'd started emailing Ichigo Kurosaki, a chef from Japan. When Grimmjow read Ichigo's messages, he couldn't help smiling at the endearing way Ichigo sometimes struggled translating something into English. The guy had a really good grasp of the English language, but every now and then he'd make a mistake that was entirely too cute. Grimmjow found himself wondering what Ichigo's voice sounded like more often than not. He'd wait, though. He didn't want to push the other man and mess up the camaraderie they'd already established.

The window for his email popped up and sure enough, Ichigo's name was in his inbox. He clicked the envelope, hands slightly shaking with nerves. He always got jittery whenever he had a new message from the chef. From what they'd talked about and the things they'd shared with each other so far, Grimmjow really liked Ichigo.

_Konnichiwa, Grimmjow. Genki?_

_I'm fine with working and classes. Too bad, I haven't found anything in my price budget yet, and I still have to finish my business courses. Hopefully, by the time I do, something will come along. _

_I had a bad weekend. I got in a fight with my friend over something so stupid, and the person I was seeing cheated on me. I also had a fight with my oyaji. He's still being dumb about me coming to America as a chef – ano kuso-ttare. I hope your weekend was better than mine, LoL. I would hate for us both to be sad._

_But for happy news, I have another recipe for you to try! It's called Nikujaga... Umai da! It's a Japanese beef stew. I think you and your family will like it. At least, I hope so. I'm attaching the recipe in English at the bottom of the message, so you should really try it. _

_LoL! The fair sounds like a kimodameshi. That's um...how should I put it? I guess in English you would say a test of courage. Similar to a haunted house, but different locations. The rules are complicated. Maybe I can tell you about it in person one day? I agree with you. I think meeting would be fun since you seem like a nice guy. _

_I have to tell you, I don't know how to swim. I almost drowned as a kid when my oyaji threw me into the local pool, and since then, I stay away from them, LoL. You can teach me if you promise not to try to drown me too. Don't worry about not catching on to my culture all at once. I'm still getting the hang of American customs and food, naraba, kore de, oretachi 'even' da ne? Well, I have to create tonight's menu, so sore ja, Grimmjow!_

_Ichigo  
_

**_Nikujaga_ **

_Ingredients_

**1/2 teaspoon ****salt**

**8 ounces ****beef**_**sliced thin (short ribs work great)**_

**1 ****onion**_**thick slices**_

**4 ****yukon gold potatoes**_**cut into large chunks**_

**1 ****carrot**_**cut into large pieces**_

**4 ****fresh shiitake mushrooms**_**stems removed and quartered**_

**1/2 cup ****sake**

**2 cups ****dashi**_**(low sodium beef stock also works)**_

**2 tablespoons ****sugar**

**1/2 teaspoon ****salt**

**3 tablespoons ****soy sauce**

**5 ounce bag ****shirataki**_**drained and rinsed**_

**3 ounces ****green beans**_**trimmed**_

_Instructions_

**Heat a heavy bottomed pot over medium-high heat until hot. Add the oil, then stir-fry the beef until cooked through. Transfer to a bowl, with tongs or a slotted spoon, leaving as much of the oil in the pot as possible. **

**Add the onions and fry until translucent. Add the potatoes, carrots, and shiitake mushrooms and continue stir-frying for about 3 minutes. **

**Add the sake and bring to a boil until you stop smelling alcohol (1-2 minutes). Add the dashi, sugar, salt, soy sauce, and then return the beef to the pot. Simmer, partially covered for 30-40 minutes, or until the meat is tender and the carrots and potatoes are very soft. **

**Add the green beans and cook uncovered until they are cooked through. Serve immediately, or refrigerate overnight to allow the flavors to develop. **

Grimmjow grinned and failed miserably at keeping a blush at bay. Ichigo's messages were always warmth and fuzz-inducing. Perhaps he was looking too deeply into this thing. Ichigo was miles and miles away – although, the man did have plans to come to America and open up a restaurant – and there was no real guarantee they would meet. Not to mention, Grimmjow didn't even know what the guy's sexual preference was, so there was no reason to get his hopes up. What they had at the moment was a tentative cyber friendship, and Grimmjow wasn't in a hurry to mess it up. Then, he frowned as he read through the message again. Ichigo had said the person he'd been seeing had cheated on him. So, the guy was fresh out of a relationship, but he hadn't been very specific.

_Maybe... Nah_.

XOXOXO

**A Few Days Later**

Ichigo glared at the pale-haired man standing across his kitchen table.

"You said I stole your girlfriend, idiot! Did you somehow forget I'm _gay_?" he snapped.

Shiro gave him a lopsided grin as he rubbed the back of his head. "C'mon, King! Ya know I was drunk."

"You're always drunk."

"Wha'? That ain't true."

Ichigo grumbled as he moved to the refrigerator and grabbed a couple bottles of beer. He slid one across the table towards his friend and shook his head as he studied the strange eyes carefully watching him. Shiro was an asshole, but he was an endearing one. It frustrated Ichigo to no end, but there was really nothing he could do about it. They'd been friends their entire lives, and he understood the way Shiro operated. Didn't mean he had to like it, though.

"Shiro, you're either drunk, or whoring around. You don't know the meaning of being faithful, which made that whole fucking tirade of yours pointless. How long had you been having sex with Mila-whatever-her-name-was? A few days? And yet you called her your _girlfriend_? You're a freak, you know that?" Ichigo ranted.

Shiro just grinned and nodded. "Yer right. I'll do better, 'kay, King? Don' be mad at me."

"Whatever."

There was a brief moment of silence where all they did was exchange looks and grins, until Shiro took a seat at the kitchen table and chugged half of his beer. After that, he licked his lips and set it down, arms going across his chest.

"So, ya still thinkin' 'bout goin' ta 'Merica?"

Ichigo pursed his lips, his thoughts immediately landing on his new friend, Grimmjow. When Grimmjow had proposed they meet, Ichigo had been giddy for the rest of that night. He wondered what the man looked like. What did he sound like? The curiosity was driving Ichigo crazy.

"Yeah, I'm gonna go as soon as I finish classes and find an affordable place," he replied.

Shiro smirked, and it made the hairs all over Ichigo's body rise. What the hell?

"Ya sure it ain't got somethin' ta do wit' somebody named Grimm-jow Jaeger-some-shit?"

Ichigo's face paled drastically. How the fuck did the creep know that? He glanced around the room, wondering just how Shiro could've gotten his hands on that kind of information and froze, hands over his back pockets.

"Where's my phone?" he deadpanned.

Shiro's grin almost covered his chin as he went into his own pocket and held Ichigo's phone in the air. "Ya mean this?"

"Where? How the hell?"

"Ya know, ya leave this thing lyin' all over the place? S'not good, King. Somebody could steal it."

Ichigo scowled, reached across the table and snatched the device. "Fuckin' sticky fingers," he grumbled.

"So, it's got nothin' ta do with that guy?" Shiro continued as if he hadn't just put Ichigo on the spot. "I mean, it kinda sounds like it."

"No!"

Shiro arched a pale brow and smirked again. "Yer lyinnnn'. I c'n always tell when yer fibbin', King. Knock it off, 'kay?"

Ichigo's scowl deepened as he glared at his friend. Times like these really made him hate the guy. Made him hate the fact that they'd known each other their whole lives. Shiro's incredulous chuckle made Ichigo press his lips into a thin line.

"What?" he snapped.

"Yer blushin'. Say, King...ya seen what this guy looks like?"

The albino was annoying with his perception. "No. Why?"

And that filthy grin was back with a vengeance. "Well, I kinda asked him fer a photo fer ya."

"WHAT?!" Ichigo hollered and jumped to his feet, heart rate climbing to the ceiling. "ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?!"

Shiro had his hands over his ears, but his smile never faded as he nodded. Ichigo wanted to curl up and die. What would Grimmjow say? Would he think he was weird? Too forward? Ichigo didn't even know if the man was...into guys like that. What would the man think about the photo request? Holy shit, he was having a heart attack.

"I can't believe you did that," he said, still stunned. "I think I'm gonna kill you as soon as I finish having this stroke."

Shiro cackled and lowered his hands. "So, ya _do_ like 'im. Dontcha think seein' what he looks like before ya get all hard fer 'im might be a good idea?"

Ichigo cringed, plopped back into his seat and dropped his head to the table, eyes squeezed shut in misery. "I hate you so much right now."

"Ahh, c'mon. It ain't the end a'the world, ya know. Least this way ya get ta see what yer crush looks like."

"Shiro, stop talking for a minute. You're only making me want to kill you more."

Shiro went quiet, but not before he laughed. However, the silence gave Ichigo time to think. So, Shiro sent Grimmjow an email requesting his photo. Ichigo's stomach went south as he unlocked the screen of his phone. He had to know exactly what his idiot friend had said.

He went into the email application and then the 'sent' folder. What he saw made him roll his eyes. It'd been simple enough.

_Ya got a pic?_

"Don't touch my phone ever again, Shiro. I'll cut your fucking fingers off if you do," Ichigo casually stated.

Shiro was cackling again, but Ichigo's mind was still on the abrupt message. He opened up a new one and began typing.

_Gomen, Grimmjow. My friend thought it a good idea to send you that message. You don't have-_

He was mid-sentence when his phone vibrated in his hands. He jumped and stared at it for a second before it finally registered that he had a new message. He left the one he was composing and almost had another heart attack when he read the name in his inbox. The little paper clip beside the subject title "Me" didn't help, either. The guy had actually gone and sent his picture! Ichigo squirmed in his seat and fought with himself. He didn't want to open the email in front of Shiro because God knew the man would never let him live it down if Grimmjow was hideous or something. But if he was good-looking, Ichigo wouldn't be able to live that down, either. He'd be pretty excited and unable to hide it.

Fucking Shirosaki.

"Mmm, let's see what he looks like, King," Shiro's warbling voice said from over Ichigo's shoulder.

Ichigo jumped, nearly falling out of his seat with fright. "What the fuck, you creep!"

Shiro just put a steadying hand on Ichigo's shoulder and smiled. "Wait, I'll do ya one better. I'll go get yer laptop so we can see it nice and big, huh?"

Ichigo's face flushed at the way his friend had phrased the suggestion, and of course Shiro caught on. He gave Ichigo a saucy smirk.

"King, ya perv'. Only I get that priv'lege, ya know?"

"Just go get the fucking computer!" Ichigo griped.

He was resigned to his fate. He knew there was no way in hell Shiro would let him get away with keeping something like this away from him. With a sigh, Ichigo locked his phone's screen and tucked the device into his pocket.

A couple minutes later, Shiro sauntered into the kitchen with a smug grin, Ichigo's laptop fit snugly in the crook of his arm. Ichigo's heart began pitter-pattering behind his ribs. When Shiro pulled up a chair beside him, his heart began pounding against them like a battering ram. He was so nervous. Was Grimmjow handsome? Was he ugly? Would it matter? Hell, what was he saying; of course, it would. Damn, that made him seem so shallow, but it was the truth. There had to be some type of attraction there in order to make anything sexual work. Not that he was thinking there would be something sexual between them. Ichigo sighed and told his mind to shut the fuck up; it was making him feel like an idiot.

Shiro set up the computer and slid it over to Ichigo. "Here ya go. Let's see what Lover Boy looks like."

Ichigo typed in his account information and hesitantly went to the message from Grimmjow. It was now or never. He took a deep breath and downloaded the picture, hands shaking and heart beating so fast, it hurt. Once it was finished, he went to click the link that would bring it up in his picture manager, but froze. He was paralyzed with fear and nerves. Ichigo saw Shiro's confused frown from the corner of his eye, but was helpless to do anything about it.

Shiro sucked his teeth and grabbed the laptop, sliding it back in front of him. "King, ya big wuss..." he mumbled and heartlessly clicked the link.

Like a kid, Ichigo squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't wanna know if Grimmjow was a troll. He really didn't.

Shiro whistled and Ichigo could hear the grin in the man's voice when he said, "Ya know, King. I don' like guys, but this one's pretty nice-lookin'."

Ichigo very slowly opened his eyes...and stared. He saw a short message first.

_Haha! Hey, Ichigo. I was kind of curious myself, so I figured I could send you mine and you'd send me yours. Deal?_

_Grimm_

Then, Ichigo saw the picture. His shoulders sagged in relief as he realized Grimmjow was far from the ugly side of the spectrum. In fact, the more Ichigo looked, the more he realized the man was so deep into the hot side of it, his image was nearly smoking. What Ichigo was looking at was a man who appeared tall, but was leaning against a wooden railing. Probably on a porch or something. He had bright, Summer sky-colored hair, arresting, sea-blue eyes, a straight, almost regal nose and a wide, carefree grin. He had on a backwards beige and green hat, a white, short-sleeved, v-neck tee, khaki cargo shorts and no socks or shoes. He was smiling at a little dark-haired girl off to the side of him, who had to be the niece he was always talking about. But Ichigo was still stuck on the man himself. His body was something Ichigo had never encountered before – like all the guy did was work out and swim. He was very well-built (stacked arms, perfect torso, strong-looking legs), and the man had never even mentioned it _once_ in his messages, so Ichigo knew he wasn't a health nut that lived in the gym.

Was he real?

"King, I swear ta God, ya get a boner in front a'me an' I'll kick yer ass," Shiro said.

That got Ichigo out of his reverie. He smirked and glanced over at his friend, whose eyes and facial expression were extremely nervous.

"OK, I'll wait 'til you leave, then," he retorted.

Shiro shook his head and slid the laptop in Ichigo's direction. "I'm appalled, King. I never knew ya were such a freak."

"HA!" Ichigo quipped. "This comin' from the master of all sex addicts? Gimme a break, Shiro."

The albino grinned and rose from his seat. "Yeah, but tha's our lil secret. I'll leave ya ta yer impendin' meat-beatin', King. Call me tamorrow."

Ichigo just chuckled and turned his eyes back to the photo on his computer screen. How was he supposed to respond to this? If he complimented Grimmjow, wouldn't the man think he was...uh...well, you know? But it wouldn't make sense to just gloss over it since Grimmjow thought it was Ichigo that had asked for the picture in the first place. And that thought turned a whole new page of trouble. Ichigo suddenly recalled that Grimmjow wanted him to send a picture in return.

What a pickle.

For the time being, however, Ichigo sat back in his kitchen chair and saved Grimmjow's impeccable photo before ogling it some more. The puzzle of Grimmjow's looks: solved.

**Oyaji: old man**

**Ano kuso-ttare: that asshole**

**Umai da: it's really delicious/great**

**naraba, kore de, oretachi 'even' da ne?: like this, we're even, yeah?**

**Sore ja: until next time/catch you later**

**Gomen: sorry**

**Next time...**


End file.
